Cactus
by RaisedOnRadio
Summary: It takes a unique person to try to nurture a cactus and coax it to bloom. /-/ Oneshot, complete.


**Cactus**

780 words, written on 5/26/13

Timeline: A week before Naru returns to Japan.

Summary: It takes a unique person to try to nurture a cactus and coax it to bloom.

* * *

_.-._

_With my cold image I look indifferent_

_And even if I look dark when the thorns come up_

_Don't worry, because soon enough a pretty flower will bloom_

.-.

My room is plain. I don't normally describe it because there is little to describe. The walls are white. The ceiling is white. The floor is wood. The dresser and desk match the floor. There is one window, and a bookshelf on the opposite wall. A simple cream colored chenille blanket covers the bed, and a cedar chest next to it doubles as a nightstand.

I don't live in my room. I sleep in it, and used the desk when I was in high school. But today the rest of the house was haunting me, and I found myself in my room with the door shut against the rest of the world.

The air outside was chilly, but I had the window open to allay the stagnant energy in the room. There was an oak tree right outside the window, and when a brisk breeze came it would carry some of its leaves into the room. A small collection of leaves in varying hues of brown had accumulated under the windowsill.

Luella and Martin had gone to a dinner party. They had wanted me to come, but they didn't ask. Parties – large groups of people talking about nothing – were still not, and probably never would be in my comfort zone.

My adopted parents knew Japan had changed me. In the times that even _I_ had to acknowledge that Japan had changed me, I liked to close myself up again and pretend that wasn't true.

I was going back to Japan in a week, and here I was, procrastinating. I could be packing, but there wasn't much I would end up bringing with, just like the last time. I did want to return, but I wasn't going back for _her_, or the rest of the group, for that matter. They were an irritation. They had taught me to lower my shield and interact with people, thus making my life that much more difficult.

I was making excuses again. I thought I was better than that.

These types of wandering, distracted thoughts reminded me of the girl who had helped me pack when I had been returning to England. Well, she had done little to actually help, but she was the type of person to think it was the thought that counted.

Maybe it was.

I was going back because I had become useless here. The SPR – the _real _one – didn't seem to know what to do with me. Finding my twin's body had not gained me respect, it seemed to have done the opposite. As if they had finally accepted that he was dead, and now they were left with me, sans the translator to understand my methods and motives.

I wasn't going to accuse anyone of wishing my brother was alive instead of me. They were entitled to their own opinions. I had plenty of my own, after all.

They wanted to put me on display in the corner of a room, out of reach. Not because I was fragile, but for the reason that they were afraid to handle me. Hold me too tight, and I'll prick and draw blood. They wanted to give me a little patch of sunlight, water me sparingly, and hope I would just sit there and look as pretty as my thorns would allow.

Before moving to Japan, this wouldn't have bothered me. I would have welcomed the isolation. That's what I didn't understand about the SPR in Japan. No matter how many times I pushed them – pushed _her _– away with my spines, they had come back.

I needed to solidify my position here, in England, instead of just running away. Why go back to Japan in the fall? I could wait until spring, but since when did the weather matter to me?

I stepped to the window and started throwing the leaves out. They fluttered to the ground to settle with the others, except for a few that were caught in the wind and carried to who-knows-where.

I wondered if she missed me.

It should have been a stupid question. After all, _I_ wouldn't miss me. Yet, I knew she did.

Here, I was an eyesore. Not physically perhaps, but mentally, and they wanted to put me out of sight. There, she had overdosed me with her sunshine. I had wanted to shun it at first, but now I found myself leaning towards the light.

She had kept a close eye on me despite how many times I had pierced her, as if she was waiting for me to grow and flower. I still didn't think that was going to happen, but maybe, at this point, I was willing to let her try.

* * *

.-.

Notes:

Loosely based off the song 'Cactus' by Woohyun and Lucia (album title: Re:code Episode II). It's actually in Korean, but the one record label does subtitles for most of their songs, or you can find translations.

In the song, the person alludes to being a cactus, which was very inspiring for Naru's character – maybe that isn't a good thing? ;-) Thank you for reading.


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